"I looked in the drawer, an' I see that," she indicated the weapon, "was missin'."
"Did ye? Now, Lily Panel, you don't mean to tell me that you thought I was goin' ter murder this feller?"
Mrs. Panel looked at Leveson with an expression which I have seen in the eyes of foothill mothers, whose children run barefoot, when they have found a rattlesnake. Then she drawled out: "Wal, I hoped you might, but----"
"Why, Lily! You hoped I might?"
"Yes; but I feared you'd git murdered first. Oh Jaspar, I didn't know you was sech a man."
She stood up, her eyes were shining, her face radiant "Fergive me, but I reckoned you--was--petered--out?"
"Petered out--me?"
"Yas; I'm a silly, fullish woman."
"No, you ain't. Petered out--me? Wal," he glanced at Leveson, "somebody is petered out, but it ain't me. Did ye ever see a man scairt worse'n him? I scairt the wizard some; yas I did, but he could run: this feller can't crawl, I reckon. An' this yere Colt wan't loaded then, an' it ain't loaded--now. Look! What an appetite I hev! Who says supper? Now, mister," he addressed Leveson, "seein' as the starch is outer you, I'll give ye my arm as fur as the Paloma."
"Leave me," gurgled Leveson.